Jacob Marley
by ScroogeMcDuck
Summary: We do not learn much about Jacob Marley from Dickens' story. However, I shall endavour to tell his story as I see it; both his life and afterlife as a condemned spirit.
1. Prolouge

Jacob Marley

_The sky above grew dark, laden with grey clouds that threatened an approaching storm. Snow already lay thick upon the cobblestones of London, like a dead man's shroud. Ironic, really. For this was the day of my funeral. From my vantage point, perched atop a nearby headstone, I had watched the proceedings. I had seen the grave-diggers come and go, watched the coffin being lowered into the grave, observed the headstone being put in place. The cemetery was silent now, silent as the falling snow, but one man, my sole mourner, stood there still, gazing solemnly down at the cheap headstone that bore my name. I saw him heave a sigh, turn, and stalk away from my final resting place. As he passed me I tried to call out to him, to make him aware of my presence, but he saw nothing, or refused to see. I watched him as he walked away, seemingly downcast and sorrowful. But I knew he was not a man to be cut up by such events. Not him. Not Ebenezer Scrooge._


	2. From Child To Man

**From Child To Man**

My tale is a sorry one. Even what should have been a joyous day, the day of my seventh birthday, was entrapped in sorrow. My mother died that night, suddenly, on a bitter cold Christmas Eve. No-one told me why she wouldn't wake up, why she wasn't answering as I cried for her…

"_Mamma? Mamma, wake up! Please!"_

_The undertaker had arrived by then; my father was at his side, not looking in the least bit concerned. He was a hard man, my father, gruff and aggressive. The undertaker made a move as if to comfort me, but my father held him back with a single look._

"_She's ain't gonna wake up, you whining brat," snarled my father. "Now get outta here!" He grabbed me by my collar and flung me bodily into the hall. I suppressed a sob; I knew my father didn't want me, he never had. I was a pathetic excuse for a son, he said. A quivering mouse, he used to call me._

_It was my mother's funeral soon after. I was dragged along by my father behind the carriage bearing the coffin, his hand crushing mine in an iron grip. My mourning clothes were a size too large, and I kept tripping over my own feet. Father scowled._

My father got rid of me at the first possible opportunity. I heard, a few years later, that he'd been sent to debtor's prison. Serves him right, I thought. He deserved it.

I was under the employment of a wealthy businessman by name of Mr. Fezziwig. He was a kindly old gentleman, who enjoyed a good party. It was at one such party that I and my future partner in business, Ebenezer Scrooge, happened to meet…

_I had just finished helping a fellow employee clear some space for dancing when the guests began to pour in. I positioned myself beside where the food and drinks were laid out, with the intention of helping serve them. Fezziwig halted my endeavors however, saying I should go and have a good time rather than waiting on people. I protested somewhat but eventually gave in at his childlike insistences for fun and good humor._

_As I moved away from the tables and over towards the dance floor (though I had no intention whatsoever of dancing, myself), a wildly dancing couple spun past and knocked me to the ground. I had never been very stable on my feet, not then, not now, not ever, goodness knows why._

_The gentlemen, noticing the predicament, abruptly stopped the dance, and hurried over. I was slowly getting to my feet, wincing slightly as he and his partner came towards me._

"_My dear sir," he exclaimed worriedly, helping me up. "Are you hurt?"_

"_I'm fine thank'ee, sir, although my ego may take a temporary leave of absence." I replied, shaking his hand._

_The man smiled and returned the handshake, with a firm grip that reminded me, somewhat eerily, of my father's. I shook the incident off, and turned my attention to his words._

"_Allow me to introduce myself, sir. I am Ebenezer Scrooge, and I have just recently been employed by our kind host, Mr. Fezziwig. This," he said, dropping my hand and instead clasping his partner's gently "Is my fiancée, Belle."_

"_A pleasure to meet you both," I said. "I too happen to be employed by Mr. Fezziwig, and I'll have you know that he is an excellent man to work for-". I paused, realizing I had neglected to tell the couple my name. "And my name, Mr. Scrooge, is Jacob Marley."_

_Scrooge laughed although, as far as I could tell, I had said nothing cutting whatsoever. "No need for the formalities, sir," he said warmly. "You may call me Ebenezer. I trust you would not mind if I were to call you Jacob?"_

"_Not at all," I replied. _

_The rest of the evening passed between us in deep discussion, interrupted by the occasional dance. I soon discovered that he had similar aspirations to my own; to become a successful banker, possibly with a seat on the London Exchange to boot. At the end of the evening we parted on good terms, with plans to meet up sometimes during our working hours and possibly for the occasional meal. We were on the way to becoming good friends…on our way to becoming Scrooge & Marley._


	3. Strictly Business

**Part Two-Strictly Business**

Five years had passed since that fateful Christmas party. Scrooge and I had formed our own business by then; a money lending firm named after its founders. Business was going well, but that wasn't always the case…especially regarding life outside business hours for a certain Ebenezer Scrooge…

_It had been a wearisome day so far, and it was only eleven o' clock. We had opened the counting house at eight and we had already had a long string of debtors, many of whom needed more time to pay. Mr. Roberts' wife had died and he wanted more time, Ms. Collins' mortgage was due but she'd used her money on Christmas frivolities, Mrs. Smith's husband was still ailing and could not come and see us about the ten pounds he owed us, Mr. Green needed "another month sirs, you know I'm good for it!"…The morning seemed to drag on and on._

_Just as I had begun filling in Mr. Green's details for our records, we received two unexpected visitors…our old employers. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig needed a large loan to keep their bank from going out of business. Whilst I pretended to pore over my ledger, I caught snatches of the conversation._

"_It's only a temporary setback…you're too young to know that business has its ups and downs my lad…"_

"_I find that impossible to believe, Mr. Fezziwig! Once a business goes down, it stays down!"_

_I glanced up at this. Ebenezer and Mr. Fezziwig had always been on excellent terms; more like friends than employer and apprentice. And, although I hate to admit it now, what my partner was saying seemed to ring true._

_Mr. Fezziwig looked both downcast and perplexed. He glanced from Ebenezer to me and back again, as if unsure what to make of it. "I helped you both start this business…" he faltered. "Why won't you help me now? You could lend the money if you wanted to, even though it is indeed a large sum; you're doing well!"_

"_We are doing well, sir!" returned Ebenezer hotly. "And being a businessman yourself you must understand our position-"_

'_Our position?' I remember thinking. 'I have no say in this particular affair, why must you drag me into it?' I looked on from over the top of my book, quite anxious as it were. _

"_-Your bank is failing sir and you're not of an age to start over! We cannot afford to throw this good money after bad, I'm sorry!"_

_He didn't seem sorry to me, not in the slightest. Fezziwig seemed to voice my opinion…_

"_Your heart has hardened, Ebenezer."_

"_I learnt a good lesson from my father sir. The one thing between us and the grave is money!"_

_I saw Mr. Fezziwig's expression turn from one of bewilderment to one of shock and sorrow. "I pity you…" he said softly. "If that's what you think…"_

"_That is what I think! Good afternoon, sir!" Ebenezer turned away from the Fezziwigs and stalked towards his desk, muttering darkly. I moved as if to console him, but no sooner had I dismounted from my stool than we heard someone else enter the shop. I turned, meaning to deal with the case myself, but hastily retreated to my desk as I saw who it was. Ebenezer's fiancée, Belle._

_I took up my position at my ledger once again, seemingly intent upon my work. But, as you can guess, I was listening to every word._

"_I have something important to say…it will only take a moment." Belle said; her voice small and sad. "You love nothing quite as much as you love gold Ebenezer. So I've brought you some more. I think you'll be quite happy to have it returned…"_

_I looked up. Belle held up her gold engagement ring, and then pressed it firmly into Ebenezer's hand. His face was turned from me, and so I had no idea of the emotion he was undergoing. As for me, I was unsure of what to think, although it was none of my business in the first place. Abandoning my pretence I continued to look at the two of them; Belle appeared wan and sad, tears threatening to spill from her eyes._

"_You don't understand…" Ebenezer replied, his voice constricted with emotion._

"_You're the one who doesn't understand Ebenezer!" Belle shot back. "I never wanted money! I never wanted anything but your love!"_

_She might have caught me looking at this point, as her next comment was directed towards the both of us…_

"_The two of you here! Working all day and late into the night! Sooner or later you'll work yourselves to death! I won't be around to see that happen!"_

_If she hadn't struck a chord with Ebenezer, she certainly had with me. That comment stung! Working ourselves to death indeed…what a ridiculous notion…_

"_You don't know what cruelties the world can inflict upon you if you're poor! Love cannot protect you from it, but money can! I'm doing this for you Belle!"_

"_No Ebenezer. These cashboxes, these ledgers, these late hours…you're doing this for you!"_

_I am not entirely sure why but I was conscious of anger filling me at the comment. Here Ebenezer was, working hard as he could to help keep her secure and she rebuked him! Threw all his efforts back in his face! How dare she!_

"_I shall waste no more of your valuable time!" Belle whispered; sounding as though she were fighting back tears. With that she swept from the counting house, leaving Ebenezer standing with her ring in his hand, looking more melancholy than I had ever seen him. He stood there a moment or two, gazing down at the ring before he stalked back to his desk, slamming the small gold trinket down onto it. Once again I moved in to comfort him, but he brushed me aside and pulled one of his ledgers towards him._

_He was right. Time to get back to work._


	4. The End Of The Beginning

**Part Three-The End of The Beginning**

It was now Christmas Eve, 1836. A perfectly normal day of business for Ebenezer and I. He had gotten over his broken engagement to Belle quite quickly, or so it appeared. Scrooge & Marley had flourished, becoming the most profitable of the money lending firms in the area. Although, as I now all too well know, we had grown heartless, we earned plenty money from the business, and liked things very much the way they were. But, alas, even this success was not meant to last…

_Over the course of the past few weeks I had taken quite ill with the flu, but still continued to work the usual long hours. I think I knew that the work I was undertaking was taking a toll on my health, but I simply refused to acknowledge it as the days drew on._

_Ebenezer too had noticed my persisting illness and I knew it irked him what with my hacking coughs every few minutes and frequent sneezing._

_I had been to see the local doctor on several occasions, but he said there was not much to be done except to wait it out. So wait it out I did, and to no avail. I grew weaker by the day; not that I voiced this to Scrooge. I only knew it would make him more irritable; he had enough to do, he said, what with running the business, and it wasn't his business to help me in my current state. Not wishing to risk his wrath, I foolishly agreed, and continued work._

_The dim candlelight made the counting house look even more gloomy than usual. The sky outside had grown dark earlier, as London was now in the dead of winter. It was cold. Excruciatingly so. I shivered, and attempted to warm my hands at the candle, but another racking cough overcame me so I had to halt my endeavors. Scrooge noticed this, and he did not look best pleased._

"_For goodness sake, Jacob!" he snapped, throwing down his quill in exasperation. "I told you to get yourself to a medical practioneer the other day, but look at you! Still with that bloomin' cold!"_

_I decided it would be wise not to tell him that he never told me anything of the sort. He had a habit of pretending he cared; to put people under false pretences. I sighed instead and made my reply._

"_In that case, I think I shall go home a bit earlier tonight. It's Christmas Eve after all and there's not been much business."_

_Scrooge looked surprised, but his mask of disdain soon returned. "It's unlike you, but if you must!" he snarled, picking up the quill again._

_I thanked him, dismounted from my stool, and moved to get my coat. But as I did so, I was conscious of a pain in my heart that hadn't been there before. It was not an emotional one; I fear my heart was devoid of any such notions as those._

_And yet the pain continued to grow, so much so that I was near bent double, clutching where it hurt as if it would make the pain ebb a little, even vanish altogether. Scrooge didn't notice; he was still intent upon his work._

_Then, I saw it. A solemn figure, robed and hooded, all in black, materialized before my eyes. I gave a choking gasp, a cry of terror…but the darkness soon consumed me and I knew no more._

I did not know then what hells awaited me. I did not know that my death was not merely the end of the beginning. A new chapter was soon to start in my life. A new pain, from which my weak heart would never recover. An incessant torture of remorse.


	5. Chains

Part Four- Chains

Part Four- Chains

When I awoke, the pain in my heart had vanished completely. I should have been glad, but all I felt was a numb sense of fear and anxiety, though I knew not why. I had no idea of where I was or how I had got there; all perceptions of place and time seemed to have left me as soon as I opened my eyes...

_I peered about me, trying to discern my surroundings. I could see nothing, however, except complete darkness. Fear continued to claw away at me as I sat up, squinting blindly into the gloom._

"_Jacob Marley!"_

_A voice called my name; a deep booming voice which echoed ominously around me. As it spoke, flames reared up on every side; spitting, hissing, crackling. I gave a start and stumbled forwards. I heard laughter and looked up, trembling._

_I was in what seemed to be a courtroom, albeit a courtroom that felt like a furnace. All the tiers of seats were filled with ghosts, all staring in my direction, causing me to shiver even more under the gaze of their death cold eyes._

_The judge of this hellish court, a tall skeletal spectre in flowing robes, peered down at me, scrutinizing me, before returning to the stack of official looking documents on his podium. Now I recognized where the fear and anxiety had come from._

"_Jacob Marley!" the judge said again, in a drawling tone. "That is you, isn't it?"_

"_Yes!" I whispered, but anger suddenly dispelled my fear, if only for a moment. "Who are you sir? Where am I? What is going on?"_

"_The answers to your questions shall arrive in due time, Mr. Marley," he snapped, flicking through his papers once more. "Must now we must turn our attention to your life's accounts, so I would appreciate no further interruptions..."_

"_My life's accounts?" I spluttered, ignoring the last part of his sentence. "You mean I'm-"_

"_Dead? Oh yes. Dead as a doornail, my dear sir!" he proclaimed with a sneer, not looking in the least bit concerned. He had seen it all before._

_Had I heard him correctly? I couldn't be dead, I was just ill, I had had a hallucination of the hooded phantom... Even as I thought this, and gabbled most of it aloud in my panic, I knew, somehow, that the judge spoke true. The spirits in the tiers, delighted at my denial and terror began to laugh uproariously, before a wizened looking ghost on the judge's left told them to stop it so they could get on with the trial at hand._

"_Court is now in session," he wheezed. "Sir Montgomery Mortimer is in the chair. We may begin, if you please."_

_Court? Why? What on Earth had I done? What was I being charged with? Before I could exclaim these thoughts however, Mortimer spoke, and his words soon silenced my thoughts._

"_Let me see," he said, pulling open an enormous ledger from out of nowhere that bore my name. "Mr. Marley, we shall deal with your offences one at a time, shall we? First of all..." he glanced down at the book before him. "Corruption. You ruined the life of one Ebenezer Scrooge with your avaricious, penny-pinching ways! You turned him into a miser as it turns out, just like you. He could've been a good businessman, and a kind one too, like a certain Mr. Fezziwig, but no! You had to go and poison him with your money making schemes-"_

"_WHAT?" I yelled, scrambling to my feet. "I never 'corrupted' him! It was his choice to join me in our company! I never forced him into anything, he did exactly as he pleased! He ruined his own life!"_

"_But you helped him to-"_

"_And for your information, Mr. Fezziwig helped us start the busi-"_

"_ENOUGH!" bellowed Mortimer, slamming a fist onto his podium. I ceased protesting in an instant, petrified once more._

"_Secondly," Mortimer consulted the ledger again, his voice back to normal...as normal as it could be. "All these other misdeeds! Piles of them! Too many to count! Your credits are almost non-existent! Your entire life," the judge spat, voice rising with fury at each word he spoke. "Was a saga of avarice and greed! Hoarding money away like a dragon and never using a penny of it to help those who needed it! Money! It was all you ever cared about!" The ghost on Mortimer's left started, but Mortimer didn't seem to care. "YOU MUST BE PUNISHED!" he shrieked, gesticulating violently with his hands, face contorted with fury._

_I had no idea what to think. I couldn't deny this was what I had done, it was all very true. Completely true. With a sickening feeling, I realized that Sir Montgomery Mortimer was right. The pain in my heart returned, violently, although it no longer beat._

"_Do you have anything to say for yourself beforehand?" snarled the judge, gavel in hand._

"_I-I don't deny that I did these things," I said, in barely more than a whisper, noticing all the spirits craning forward in their seats, hungry to hear every word of my defence. "B-but I...I thought we were to have our debts forgiven when we died! N-not that was I did was right, mind you, but..." I broke off. I couldn't justify the mess my life had been._

_Mortimer rolled his eyes and drew himself up to his full, imposing height. "For these various misdeeds just mentioned, Mr. Jacob Marley shall henceforth be condemned to wear the chains he forged in life, to remind him for all eternity of his wrongdoings. He will be condemned to wander the Earth as he once did, to see what he should have seen, to feel what he should have felt, but with no power to meddle in mortal affairs!"_

_The specters in the tiers nodded approvingly, I was unable to think of a thing to say._

_Sir Montgomery Mortimer slammed down the gavel._

_All at once, chains appeared out of thin air, heavy enough without the items they bore; keys, padlocks, deeds, ledgers, cashboxes, purses and many more items besides. I could only whimper in fear as they snaked their way about my arms, legs, ankles, wrists and neck, causing me to sink to the floor under their weight, while the ghosts filling the court howled with mirthless laughter once more._

"_PLEASE!" I screamed, somehow finding my voice. "Have mercy! Please, good sir, have mercy on me! I beg of you!" I felt tears, hot with terror and self hatred threatening to spill from my eyes, my father's old insults suddenly ringing in my ears._

_My pleas did nothing but to increase the laughter, I tried to raise my head to beg once more for mercy but the chains weighed me down, burning red hot like fiery coals...I shut my eyes to try and blot it all out but the pain only seemed to double, the tears I had been fighting streamed down my cheeks..._

_The laughter stopped. The boiling heat of the courtroom ebbed away. I opened my eyes, quaking in terror of a new horror sure to await me..._

_No! Anything but a new horror! It was London, on a biting winter's night, more piercingly cold than ever after the heat of the Underworld._

_Then, I realized exactly where I was. Outside a familiar, gloomy office._

_My own._


	6. Visions

**Part Five-Visions**

At last, something I recognized! A place I knew well! Scrambling to my feet, I tried to hurry towards the office, but the chains made haste nearly impossible. Instead, I was forced to drag them along, making painfully slow progress towards the counting house, now more than ever feeling the bitter cold of winter.

_It took me almost five minutes to reach the door to the counting house. Wiping melted snow and perspiration from my forehead, I pulled it open, curious as to what I would see inside._

_The room looked exactly as it always did; ledgers stacked in neat piles, shelves of cashboxes with wrought iron padlocks, bundles of quills arranged in inkwells like flowers in vases… I took a moment to take it all in. I was back! I was home!_

_No sooner had I thought this, then the office grew hazy, swimming in and out of focus like a hallucination. When this strange haziness melted away, I let out a cry of shock._

_Ebenezer Scrooge knelt over my dead body, pulling it into a sitting position to better check it for signs of life. He felt my wrist for a pulse, and touched the place where my heart used to beat. Nothing._

"_Jacob?" he asked gruffly, as if there were some chance I might hear him. "Jacob!"_

_I felt ghostly tears well in my eyes once more…what was this? How was I seeing this…and why?_

_The clock chimed ten. The scene before me dissolved._

_Blinking rapidly, I looked about me. I was at the office of Scrooge & Marley once again, but weak winter sunlight streamed through the windows. Markus Randal, our company lawyer, was poring over a document at my old desk, squinting slightly as he deciphering my somewhat untidy scrawl. Peering over his shoulder, I knew instantly what it was._

_**The Last Will & Testament of Mr. Jacob Marley**_

_Scrooge sat at his own desk, staring blankly out the window at the still falling snow, his face an emotionless mask. He was awaiting the results of the will, drumming his fingers on the desk impatiently._

"_Here we are, sir," said Randal, coming over to Scrooge's desk with several papers clutched in his hand. "It seems the late Mr. Marley was rather fond of you, sir!" It was evident that Randal was trying to make light of the situation at hand…and, needless to say, failing._

"_What do you mean?" snarled Scrooge. "I don't have time to waste. Just tell me what I need to know, give me the forms I need to sign, and then be off with you!"_

_Randal looked surprised, but then placed a set of forms on Scrooge's desk. "Mr. Jacob Marley left you everything, to put it simply. His townhouse, money…" He tailed off as Scrooge snatched up a quill, eager to get this whole business over with._

"_Sign just there, if you please," said Randal, indicating several blank spaces on the official looking documents. With a grim smile of satisfaction that only he and I knew was there, Scrooge swiftly signed the forms in question._

_I felt uneasy. What did that secret little smile mean?_

_The clock chimed eleven. The scene before me dissolved._

_The office was swathed in darkness once more, silent as the grave. Stars flickered in the sky outside. Their light was the only illumination the room had; it cast eerie shadows across the old desks and shelves, making it look as though unseen monsters lurked in the darkness._

_A sudden sob shattered the illusion of chilling solemnity and I gave a start. The noise seemed to have come from the back room, behind the main office of the counting house. The back room generally served as a place to store coats and hats, as well as old ledgers and records that were no longer relevant._

_I stumbled towards the room, my chains slowing my hurried pace, squinting anxiously through the gloom._

_The door to the room was ajar, although it too was in complete darkness. Getting used to it by now, I could make out a solitary figure, hands wrapped tight around its knees, huddled on the floor. I moved closer into the room, peering at the figure to try and discern who it was, when it spoke, voice hoarse from crying._

"_Jacob…" it choked. "Not you as well…"_

_I knew that voice as well as I knew my own. What was Scrooge talking about? I knelt down beside him, although he didn't appear to see or hear me._

"_Why didn't I notice you were dying, Jacob? Why?" Scrooge cried, his laments almost intelligible as a fresh wave of tears overtook him, his thin frame wracked with sobs. "You…my dear mother…Fan…you're all gone! You've all left me here, alone! Why?" He hid his head in his hands, weeping piteously once more. "Why, why WHY?"_

_I sat there, stunned, in the darkness. A ghost. A spectre of the man I once was. And here Scrooge was, mourning the passing of that man, the man he hadn't seemed to care about in the remaining days of his life on Earth. I gingerly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder._

"_It's all right Ebenezer," I said, trying to reassure him. "I'm still here! I'll watch over you!"_

_Scrooge gave a start, as if he had been hit by a sudden, freezing cold. Had he felt my touch? Did he know I was there? I saw him glance nervously around the room, petrified, but after a moment or two he regained his composure, wiping his bloodshot eyes with a handkerchief. _

"_Ghosts indeed," he snapped, as if scolding his own thoughts. "Humbug!"_

_The clock struck midnight, and the office dissolved for the last time._


	7. Guidance & Redemption

**Part Six- Guidance & Redemption**

I found myself outside once more, in the chilling cold, snow blowing about me, wind howling mercilessly. I looked around. The office was gone. The street was gone. I had no idea where I was, or how I had ended up there.

_I still felt tears pricking my eyes and I blinked them hurriedly away. What was all that? Why had I seen it?_

"_We meet again, Mr. Marley!"_

_I whirled around, terrified. I recognized that voice._

_Sir Montgomery Mortimer stood there, his arms folded, a terrifying shadow in the dark of the winters night. His expression was hard to read, but he looked somewhat pleased. This worried me, and I tried to back away, but the chains seemed to hold me where I stood, unable to move._

"_Don't be afraid, my dear sir," the demonic spectre said, without a hint of a sneer. "I'm here to help you."_

_I shook my head firmly. "You're lying!" I snapped. "You call this help?" I indicated the chains, which had made deep gashes in the powdery snow as I walked._

"_No…that's not what I mean," Mortimer continued, rolling his eyes. "I admit, I cannot rid you of those chains, not just yet at least, but I can guide you on your way!"_

_It was my turn to roll my eyes. This was all a big joke. Mortimer had put me in chains and forced me to see visions of my own demise. And now he said he wanted to help me?_

"_I don't believe you!" I spat. "How can I, when you did this to me?"_

"_You make a fair point, Mr. Marley. But you have to believe me. You must. I can help you save yourself from this fate!"_

"_W-what?" I spluttered. "If you came here to save me, why did you do this to me in the first place?"_

"_It is what's expected of me," Montgomery replied, taking a step forward, making no sound nor imprint in the snow as he did so. "But every condemned spirit has a chance to change. One chance of freedom from their chains. I am simply here to give them that chance. Most, like you, don't believe in me and, in doing so, doom themselves. Others take the chance but cannot complete the journey to redemption. The rest make it, they cross the finish line, they're free." Mortimer stopped, looking up at me. "Which will you be, Jacob Marley?"_

_I felt un-nerved. This could be a trick! But it didn't seem to be somehow. Mortimer was in earnest, I could tell. I took in what he had told me, slowly, piece by piece. He could help free me from my chains? This sounded too good to be true…But, if it was…_

"_I believe you, sir," I said, hoping fervently that I had made the right decision. "Please…help me!"_

_Mortimer smiled. "Never fear," he said. "I shall."_

_There was a moments silence._

"_What must I do?" I asked. "To redeem myself?"_

"_It's quite simple really. In theory. In order to save yourself, you must save another. A mortal who is doubtless forging their own chains-"_

"_Scrooge!" I blurted out. "Ebenezer Scrooge!"_

"_Well done, Mr. Marley! I don't think anyone's ever found their mortal that quickly before!" Mortimer cried, looking triumphant. "Ebenezer Scrooge!"_

In order to save myself, I had to save Scrooge. Little did I know just how difficult that task would be…


	8. A Ghostly Visitation

**Part Seven- A Ghostly Visitation**

The problem facing me was stupendous. How could I possibly convince Ebenezer to change his miserly ways?

_My immediate thought was to ask Mortimer for help, as he had doubtlessly helped scores of doomed spirits before me. But he had no help to offer, he said, no comfort to give. He was allowed to facilitate, but the main weight of the task would have to be my own. As if I didn't have enough weight to deal with._

_We were standing outside Scrooge & Marley once more, trying to come up with a plan of action. I kicked one of the cashboxes on my chain moodily, which gave no help whatsoever and did nothing to improve my sombre mood._

"_I suppose we'd best begin by paying Scrooge a visit!" prompted Mortimer._

"_He can't see us," I snapped irritably. "We're ghosts!"_

_Mortimer rolled his eyes for about the hundredth time. "What I meant was, we see how things are going and figure out the plan from there!" He pushed me slightly in the small of the back in the direction of the office. Having no other plan ready, I heeded his advice and entered, still marveling at the fact that mortals couldn't hear the stupendous racket my chains made as I walked._

"_Cratchit! Have you finished copying those letters yet?"_

_It was Scrooge, sounding as bitter and cold as ever he had. The office had undergone quite a change since my last visit, it was shabbier, dustier, colder._

_Scrooge himself has changed too, his hair now a silvery grey, his face scarred with wrinkles, his eyes cold slits of fury. How long had it been? I was only here about an hour ago, he had had no time to have undergone such change…_

_As if he had read my thoughts, Mortimer pointed towards the clock, which showed the time and date, as it always had done._

_Three o' clock, 24__th__ December in the year of our Lord 1843._

_It had been seven years. Seven years since my death._

_Mind still reeling from the shocking piece of information, I turned my attention back to Scrooge. Mortimer and I observed his Christmas Eve routine at the office._

_He rejected his nephew's offer of Christmas dinner and his speech about when men and women opened their shut up hearts freely and treated one another as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave. _

_He told the charity workers that the poor should go to the workhouses and prisons, and that they should die if they couldn't._

_He grudgingly allowed Bob Cratchit, his meek but loyal clerk, to have Christmas Day off, but demanded he be there 'all the earlier next morning!'_

_As Scrooge donned his top-hat and made to leave, I turned to Mortimer, eyes downcast._

"_This is hopeless…" I said sorrowfully. "There's nothing we can do!"_

"_You haven't even tried anything yet!" Mortimer snapped._

"_What do you expect me to do? If I were to tap him on the shoulder and tell him to change he'd surely go mad!"_

"_You make a fair point…"_

_The lights flickered out and we heard the door slam; Scrooge grumbling to himself as he made his way to the tavern for his evening meal._

"_Maybe I could try…you know…appearing? Making him see me?"_

_Mortimer nodded approvingly, as if he'd known this all along._

"_Well how do I do that?" I snapped, somewhat irritated he hadn't divulged this information before._

"_Simple," Mortimer said, with another roll of his eyes. "Imagine yourself being visible, and you'll be visible! Concentrate really hard…"_

_I did as I was instructed, feeling very warm and yet very cold all at once. I seemed to glow for a moment, and then it all stopped. I felt the same, I looked the same. But I knew now that I could be seen by mortals. It was time to warn Scrooge, before it was too late._

_About thirty minutes had elapsed. Mortimer and I were waiting for Scrooge in the hallway of my-sorry, HIS townhouse. It was strange being back, not that much had changed. The thick layer of dust and cobwebs, if anything._

"_Now, when he arrives at the door," Mortimer was saying. "You have to do something to shake him, rattle his nerves a bit, before you appear completely and give him your warning…"_

_I nodded. That made sense._

"_I suggest you make your face appear somehow, just your face, looking all eerie. That ought to do the trick!" _

_I nodded again. "The door knocker," I said, confidently. "I'll make my face appear on the door knocker!"_

_And so I did._

_It was strange, seeing him scared like that. He almost dropped his keys when I appeared, gaunt and ghostly, on his front door. He gave a cry of shock and stumbled backwards. Knowing this had worked, I disappeared without a trace, reappearing back in the hallway with Mortimer._

"_He'll be coming inside any second now!" Mortimer hissed. "We got to hide!" With that, he grabbed my arm and pulled us downwards, seconds later we were in the old wine cellar of the house, which had been in disuse even before my residence at the place. It was so heavily perfumed with wine that it made me gag._

_Regaining my composure, I looked up, as if expecting to see through the heavy ceiling and onto the floors above. I heard the faint sound of Scrooge's footfalls above us._

"_What should I do now?" I asked Mortimer._

"_Well," the spectre considered. "That went well, if I do say so myself. Keep this up and he'll be a changed man by morning! Wait a bit, then get up there and tell him what you must. I have to warn you though; you won't have much time…" He left the sentence hanging, and a feeling of dread entered my stomach. What now?_

_We waited in the cellar for what felt like hours, Mortimer inspecting the wine caskets, I simply standing there, fiddling with one of the purses on my chain, anxious and excited all at once. I knew what I had to tell him, and how I would phrase it, but I was worried my words wouldn't be enough to make him change…_

"_Go on!" Mortimer snapped, interrupted my thoughts. "Get up there! I'll be waiting right here for you when you get back!"_

_I gave a shaky nod, and started my ascent, chains echoed ominously around the musty cellar as I walked. I clanked up the stairs, casting no shadow on the grimy walls. I moved slowly along the corridor, knowing exactly what lay ahead, and almost dreading the prospect of seeing Scrooge. How could I possibly make him change?_

_It was no surprise to me that I could walk through the heavy door of Scrooge's chambers, but it certainly surprised Scrooge himself. He gave a start, dropping his plate of gruel with a clatter, and shrinking back in his chair._

"_How now! What do you want with me?" he choked, eyes wide with fear._

"_Much!" I replied. By no fault of mine, my voice seemed to reverberate around the room, echoing eerily and bouncing off the walls._

"_W-Who are you?"_

"_In life, I was your partner! Jacob Marley!" I said imploringly, taking a step towards him. He had to recognize me, he had to remember me!_

"_J-Jacob Marley…" Scrooge took a moment to digest this information, looking over my spectral shape as if to assure himself of my presence._

"_You don't believe in me!" I observed, noticing his doubtful looks._

"_I don't!" he replied curtly, shaking his head._

"_What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses?"_

"_I don't know!"_

"_Why do you doubt your senses?"_

"_Because any little thing can affect them," Scrooge snapped, as if irritated by the question. "A slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats! You may be an undigested bit of beef…a blot of mustard…a crumb of cheese…a fragment of an underdone potato…yes! That's what YOU are! You are an old potato! You don't exist, Jacob Marley! Its humbug, I tell ya! It's a load of-"_

_Well, I wasn't about to let him think that I was just a figment of his imagination! I had been through too much already to let him think that! With an inhuman cry of rage I floated several feet into the air, clanking my chain menacingly. The candle on Scrooge's small table sputtered and died, the flames of his small fire were extinguished as if by a strong gale, the room was plunged into darkness, save for the ghastly spectral glow I seemed to emit._

"_Man of the worldly mind!" I screeched. "Do you believe in me or not?"_

"_I do, I do, I do!" Scrooge cried; he had fallen from his armchair and now lay, trembling in fear at my feet. "I must! But why do spirits walk the Earth, and why do they come to me?"_

_The words I spoke next didn't seem to come from me, I had no idea from whence they came. "It is required of every man that the spirit within him should walk abroad among his fellow men, and travel far and wide. And if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander through the world-oh, woe is me!- and witness what it cannot share but might have shared on Earth and turned to happiness!"_

_Scrooge looked very unsettled by this, and quaked all the more violently. "You are fettered Jacob!" he said, his voice shaking. "Tell me why!"_

"_I wear the chain I forged in life," I told him, repeating what Mortimer had told me in the courtroom. "I made it link by link and yard by yard. I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it! Is its pattern strange to you?"_

_Scrooge shook his head, his lip trembling._

"_Would you know the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full, heavy and as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago, and you have labored on it since. It is a ponderous chain you're making, Scrooge!"_

_Ebenezer looked anxiously about him on the floor, as if expecting to see himself surrounded by cold iron links, but he could see nothing. I almost felt sorry for the poor wretch, but I couldn't let my true feelings show, not now when he seemed so scared, so changeable…_

"_Please, Jacob, Jacob Marley, tell me more! But speak comfort to me Jacob!"_

_I shook my head sadly. "I have none to give. Comfort comes from other regions, Ebenezer Scrooge, and is conveyed by other ministers than I to other kinds of men than you. Nor can I tell you what I would. I do not have much time here…I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere! In life my spirit never walked beyond our counting house! In life my spirit never roved beyond the narrow limits of our money changing hole and weary journeys lie before me!"_

_It was only then that I felt the true horror of my situation. If Scrooge didn't change I was doomed forever…My anguish must have clearly shown in my voice, for Scrooge looked almost pitying._

"_But…I don't understand…" he said at last, his voice constricted with fear and intrepidation. "You were always a good man of business Jacob!"_

"_Business!" I cried, wringing my hands. "Mankind should have been my business! Charity, mercy, forbearance and benevolence should have all been my business!" Overcome with regret, I flung my chain upon the ground again, as if it alone were the cause of my woes. "Why did I walk through crowds of fellow beings with my eyes turned down, and never once raise them to that blessed star, which led the Wise Men to a poor abode. Were there no poor homes to which its light would have conducted ME?"_

_Even as I said this, I heard Mortimer's voice in my ear; gentle, even a little sad. "Time to go, Mr. Marley!"_

_I shook my head firmly although I could not see him. _

"_I am here tonight," I continued, looking down at my old partner. "To warn you that you have yet a chance and hope of escaping my fate! A chance and hope of my procuring, Ebenezer!"_

"_You were always a good friend to me Jacob," Scrooge said gratefully, wiping perspiration from his brow. "Thank'ee!"_

_Mortimer fed me my next lines, and although I had no idea what he meant, I was sure I would find out._

"_You will be haunted," I proclaimed. "By three spirits!"_

"_Is this the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob?"_

"_It is."_

"_I-I think I'd rather not!"_

"_Without their visits you cannot hope to shun the path I tread! Expect the first ghost tonight, when the bell tolls one!"_

"_Can't I meet 'em all at once and get it over wi-"_

"_Expect the second on the next night at the same hour! The third upon the next night when the last stroke of twelve has ceased to vibrate. Look to see me no more and look that, for your own sake, you remember what has passed between us!"_

_A blinding white light suddenly flared up around me, Mortimer appeared at my side, there was an incoherent sound like a cracking fire…and we were gone._

_Scrooge's house was as silent as the grave._


	9. A Christmas Carol

**Part Eight- A Christmas Carol**

"What did you mean?" I blurted out as soon as the light had died away. Mortimer and I were back where our journey had begun, on an unknown street in the freezing cold of a London Christmas Eve.

"_About the three spirits?" Mortimer asked, brushing flecks of snow good-humouredly from his robes._

"_Of course about the three spirits!" I snapped, irritated. "What else would I be talking about? Who or what are they? What are they going to do to Scrooge?" I had delivered the warning Ebenezer had needed, told him all I could about my hellish eternity in chains, and yet I hadn't understood the majority of the latter part._

"_These spirits show people visions of their Christmases Past, Present and Future," Mortimer explained. "They are directed towards all sorts of souls around Christmastime by those who think or know they need direction; those who need help and guidance, those who need to see Christmas and mankind in a good light again."_

_I still didn't completely understand, but I nodded anyway. "In warning Scrooge I have summoned them then?" I asked._

"_Yes, you have," Mortimer replied. "They should be here soon, before they commence Scrooge's reclamation. They need to know exactly who they're dealing with, you see. Don't worry-" he said quickly seeing my somewhat befuddled expression. "Time works differently for them. There's plenty of time before the first spirit is due to meet with Scrooge."_

_Almost as soon as these words left his lips, a dazzling light illuminated the blustery winter surroundings, so bright I had to shield my eyes. I was just wondering why there was so much dazzling light in the afterlife when I saw three ghostly figures emerge from the sudden brightness. _

_The first was short and tall all at once, an old man, and then a child. He held a branch of holly in one hand and was dressed in shimmering white robes, decorated with beautiful summer flowers. He smiled warmly at Mortimer and I and bowed low._

"_I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," he said in a melodic voice that seemed to fit no specific age. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Marley, and I can only hope our endeavours shall be successful."_

_I thanked him earnestly and turned my attention to the next spirit._

_He was as tall as a house, this spectre, clad in a green velvet robe trimmed with white. A crown of holly leaves was perched on his head, and he carried a torch in his hand, which burnt brightly in the now darkening street._

"_I am the Ghost of Christmas Present, dear sir," he said, shaking my hand and smiling jovially. "I assure you my fellows and I will do all within our power to help save your old friend Scrooge!" _

_I thanked this spirit too; unable to help smiling as I did so. He seemed to radiate joy and warmth as he walked to stand beside the Ghost of Christmas Past, smiling broadly down at him too._

_The third and final spirit couldn't have been more different. A silent phantom, draped and hooded in black, seemed to emit fear and despair as he moved towards me. I shark back a little, but the spectre merely inclined its head in greeting, before gliding to join the other two. I shivered slightly in his wake._

"_Here we all are then!" cried the Ghost of Christmas Present. "Beginning our journey in which we hope to redeem Ebenezer Scrooge! I for one am feeling very confident about this; miserly as the man may be, I am sure with our combined efforts we can make him see the error of his ways!"_

"_I certainly hope so," I said, unsure whether I should speak or not. "I cannot tell you all how grateful I am-"_

"_Please," said the Ghost of Christmas Past, twirling the spring of holly he held deftly between his fingers. "There is no need to tell us. We know, and we are glad to be of service."_

_The clock struck one; a long, low, melancholy chord, and the three spirits vanished into the night without a parting glance._

"_It has begun," said Mortimer calmly, staring at the place where the Christmas spirits had been just moments before. "And now, we wait."_

We waited for what felt like an eternity. I counted the knelling chimes of the nearby clock, and kept looking about me for the returning spirits. They never reappeared during all the time Mortimer and I waited there, and it made me uneasy. Was this good or bad?

_Time did indeed seem to work differently for immortals like us. All the time we waited there the sun never rose, the snow never ceased to fall and the stars never ceased to glimmer. It had been three nights since I'd visited Scrooge; three long, silent nights._

_Even as I though this, I glimpsed the brilliant orange light of the sun peeking over London's rooftops. I looked at Mortimer, excitement on my face. Today was surely the day we found out if Scrooge was changed!_

"_Christmas Day in the year of our lord 1843," Mortimer intoned, with a small smile. "Let's pay a visit to Ebenezer Scrooge, shall we?"_

_The Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future had done it. Ebenezer Scrooge was a changed man. He raised Bob Cratchit's salary and helped his struggling family. He visited his nephew's for Christmas dinner. He donated an enormous amount of money to the poor. And all day, all that glorious Christmas Day, he smiled. He greeted strangers and people of all classes with a beaming smile and a 'Merry Christmas!'. _

_As Mortimer and I observed Scrooge that day, I knew that I had done the right thing in saving him. Not just for my own sake, but for his. He now had the rest of his life ahead, in which he could make amends. He could change, and he would change, and he would honour Christmas in his heart all the year._

'And what became of me?' you may ask. 'You were promised freedom from your chains if you helped redeem Scrooge!'

Montgomery Mortimer honoured his promise, dear reader. That very night, in front of the Underworld Court, he passed the sentence that freed me from my chains, passed the sentence that saved me from eternal torment. I am eternally grateful.

Since then, I have spent my time watching over those souls who need it, people who have lost hope, people who need to be saved. I have helped them in any way I can, acting as a sort of guardian, if you will.

I visit Ebenezer Scrooge on occasion. He is as happy and pleasant a man as can be and it fills me with joy and wonder every time I see him, to see what a remarkable transformation he has undergone. Who would have thought it possible? Not I, that's for certain.

I think back now, reflecting on my own life, on how I never took the chance to change. The opportunity presented itself, but I ignored it, continuing in the life that would have doomed me for eternity, if it were not for one man.

My old friend, Ebenezer Scrooge.

_**The End**_


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